


Shut Your Eyes and Fall Apart

by ZionSunrise



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Dean, Canon Unrequited Destiel, Established Relationship, Fix It, HEA, Hurt/Comfort, I can't write sad endings, Light BDSM, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Poor Castiel (Supernatural), Praise Kink, Sam is mentally a mess at the beginning of this and i'm sorry, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZionSunrise/pseuds/ZionSunrise
Summary: After Dean dies, Sam spirals into a disaster while Cas watches on from afar. When Sam's salvation seems to be in question, and with a mysterious Task to complete for the Heavens, Cas makes the decision to bring Dean back. Together, the brothers face life in a way they never have before.(Okay yeah, this is my excuse for a fix-it fic with all the emotional smutty Wincest fluff and smut I could possibly cram into it. May or may not have written 13k in three and a half days. Sue me.)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 207





	1. Still Was A Madman

It was about a year after Dean's death that Castiel realized there might be something seriously wrong with Sam. Grief? Of course, Cas had expected that. Grief for his brother, his best friend. As close as Sam and Dean had been (and Cas really didn't want to think about _how_ close), some amount of grief would probably linger for years to come, if not the rest of his life. But this was... this was something more than that. 

At first, Cas had thought nothing of it. Sam was drinking every day? Of course he was drinking every day. Cas had watched Bobby do worse, hell, he'd watched Dean do worse. And the Winchesters were always getting themselves into dangerous situations. They were always almost dying. So when Sam nearly died three basic hunts in a row, Cas didn't worry. It was on the fourth hunt that he changed his mind.

Again, it was routine. Simple. A single werewolf terrorizing a tiny Colorado village. Sam tracked him down easily enough, but to Cas's surprise, instead of getting the jump on him, Sam threw the warehouse doors open and sauntered in like a king. Cas had to resist the urge to step in when during the fight, the werewolf got Sam by the throat, holding something deadly-sharp up against his pulse-point. Sam had laughed, his eyes going wild, a smile that was the first real one Cas had seen out of Sam since Dean's death. But somehow, he'd managed to win. And when he walked away, the smile was long-gone, replaced by a look of heartbroken frustration. Cas paid more attention after that.

"He's trying to get himself killed," he told Bobby one day. Jack's orders for angels were out of sight, out of mind. They could help on earth a little, they could observe wherever they wanted, but even in heaven, they were supposed to stay scarce where human souls were involved. Cas, as usual, bent the rules just a little whenever he could. Bobby sighed, throwing his feet up on the other chair. 

"Kid lost his- well, you know," Bobby said, glancing away and looking uncomfortable. "His _everything_. Probably take a while before he feels like he's got something to live for again."

"You should see him, Bobby. He's drowning. I don't know if he's going to make it out of this." Bobby gave him a sad smile.

"He probably don't want to make it out of this."

"And that doesn't _bother_ you?" Cas asked, tilting his head. Bobby's face flashed with pain. 

"He's my boy. Course it does. Should be livin' while he's down there. But there's nothing I could do about it, is there? Somethin' _you_ could do about it, if you wanted." Cas shook his head.

"Jack wouldn't like it. And he'd be right. Things go better on earth when we stay away." Bobby let out a tiny laugh and shook his head. 

"If you change your mind, you get down there and tell him to stop being an idjit. Tell him it's what Dean would want." Cas flinched back at the name, well-aware of Bobby eyeing him shrewdly. "You know you could come and see him, right? He misses his best friend." 

"No- I can't," Cas said. He disappeared without saying goodbye, Bobby's pitying smile still burned behind his eyes.

"You know, if he dies trying to get himself killed like that, it could still count as suicide," he muttered to Gabriel a few months later. "He could go to Hell. After everything he's done, all he's been through-"

"Relax, baby bro," Gabriel said, giving him a lazy grin over his margarita. "No way the big man's gonna send a Winchester to hell."

"Individual cases aren't up to him," Cas scowled. Gabriel shrugged at him, clearly unbothered. 

"Then we'll break him out. God knows I wanna see Sammy's hot little ass prancing around Heaven. Gotta say, though. Why'd you want him up here? Right now, you got no competition. Bet you could sweep in and knock Green Eyes off his feet. Or onto his back-"

"I love Sam too. He's my family. And Dean- I've always known I couldn't have him," Cas said, squinting his eyes shut. "Always. Dean was Sam's from the second Sam was born."

"Ah, incest," Gabriel said fondly. "What do you think people would say if they knew the saviors of the world spent more time fucking than world-saving?"

"I would like to think they'd see that with Sam and Dean, it's more complicated than that." Gabriel looked him over, shaking his head. "And even with Sam gone, he's all Dean talks about."

"You still watch him?"

"Sometimes. I talk to Bobby Singer. And-" Gabriel waited patiently as Castiel forced the next words out. "He prays to me." The Trickster gave him a look Cas couldn't interpret. 

"I think an angel in love with a human is almost as bad as incest," he said finally, punching Cas lightly in the arm. Cas felt himself color. "Look- what about that thing? The _big_ thing that needs doing? You and I both know there's nobody better to do it than Dean Winchester. Why not bring him back for a little while?" Cas shook his head.

"He's at peace. After everything he's done, everything he's been through, I could never ask him to do that." Gabriel shrugged, taking a noisy slurp from his drink. 

"Your loss." Cas went back to earth. 

In another six months, Cas was fully convinced Sam had lost his mind. He hunted nonstop, killing each monster with a grim look of disappointment when they didn't kill him first. And he prayed. He prayed constantly, just one angry word over and over like a mantra. _CastielCastielCastielCastiel._ Cas ignored him, his heart aching. Until one day he saw Sam, red-eyed mask of terrifying power, holding a knife up to a small human child's throat. 

"Sam. What are you doing?" Cas asked once he'd grabbed the knife. The child ran off, screaming. Sam huffed bitterly at him.

"I thought that'd get your attention."

"I'm not supposed to be here," Cas said. 

"I need you to kill me." Cas frowned, taking in the sight of a man completely unhinged. His long hair was unkempt, and it had likely been days since he showered. His dirty cheeks were streaked by clean lines, and more tears fell down his face even as he spoke.

" _What_?"

"Kill me, kill me, Cas," Sam babbled. The tears were coming faster now, and Sam sank to his knees, gripping Cas's trench coat. "Kill me- I can't do this. I can't live without him." 

"Yes you can."

"I can't. It's like living without a lung. Or a heart. I can't do it."

"If I do, you could go to hell. With the new system- I don't know what-" 

"Good. That would be better than this. Maybe I deserve it." It hurt to see Sam like this. It hurt to see a man who's world was so large, who knew so much, cared so much, reduced to nothing but the absence of Dean. Someone who would now trade an eternity being tortured for thirty more years alive. Without thinking, he pulled Sam up into a tight hug, holding him and feeling his body tremble as Sam cried in his arms.

"Sam- do not do anything stupid. Okay? Give me a few days. Just a few more days. You can do that." Sam looked entirely hopeless as Cas flew away. He made a note to have Gabriel watch him, just in case. Then he made his way to the person he most longed and feared to see.

Dean sat against the hood of the Impala, his eyes sad and faraway, looking out over the field. He glanced over at the soft rustle of wings, jumping from the car and running to Cas's side in seconds.

"Cas," he said, stopping a foot away and beaming. Cas couldn't help but smile back.

"Hello, Dean." 

"I'm so glad you're here- I never got a chance to- to tell you-" Cas held up a hand and shook his head.

"You don't have to say anything, Dean. I know it's not the same for you." Dean shifted. 

"I know. But I still- I care about you, man. You can't go disappearing on me like that." Cas felt warmth spread from the crown of his head to his toes. He sighed, shaking his head. 

"I thought you'd hate me." Dean huffed. 

"Cas- I'd never hate you. You dickbag. You're my best friend."

"And you're mine," Cas said, feeling his heart break just a little. 

"Don't do that again, man, I mean it. I don't wanna spend my time worrying about your feathery ass. How's Sam? Have you seen him?" Dean asked, words coming out too quickly to be casual. For just a second, Cas thought he saw a flicker of the same madness Sam was so lost in behind Dean's eyes. He shivered. 

"Dean- are you happy here?" Dean's eyes flashed again, and Cas knew the answer before he spoke. 

"I'm tryin' to be. I know Sam- he's finally gettin' what he always wanted, right? House with a white picket fence, a wife-" his voice broke on the word, and Cas felt his distress like a scream. "He's happy. Better off. So- so I'm alright here." Cas thought of how Sam had looked, how tightly his hands gripped at Cas, just for something, anything to hold on to. Dean's face changed. "He's not okay."

"He's not okay," Cas agreed. He made up his mind. "And I need your help. I need you to do something you can only do alive. I'm going to ask you to go back to earth, and you can say no. I know it's a lot to ask you. I know you've finally been able to rest. But-"

"Send me back," Dean said instantly. "Can you- please-" He turned away from Cas, but not fast enough that Cas missed the tears hanging in his eyes. "Sammy," he whispered to himself, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. 

"With Jack's new system, there has to be a trade," Cas murmured. "You'd get half of the years Sam has left. And he'd lose them."

"He'd die, you mean?" Dean whipped back around, feral overprotectiveness clear on his face. Cas shook his head.

"You'd die together. If you die of natural causes. And I wouldn't know how long you have. But if you don't- Dean, I'm worried that Sam won't make it here."

"Send me back," Dean said again, his jaw locking. Cas studied him sadly. Then he gripped Dean's shoulder and dragged him down below.

Cas watched, hidden. Sam sat right where Cas had left him the day before. He wasn't crying now. He stared vacantly straight ahead, his arms wrapped around his knees. Dean approached him slowly, quietly. Sam only turned when he was a few feet away, freezing so completely he looked like he'd been turned to stone. 

"Hiya, Sammy," Dean said, his voice breaking on the last word. Sam sat where he was, frozen, looking at Dean like he was an alien. Dean knelt beside him slowly, like he was approaching a wounded animal. Sam's eyes darted across his face over and over. Dean's eyes were luminous in the evening light. 

"Are you real?" Sam rasped out. It sounded like he hadn't spoken in years. His voice was completely devoid of emotion, like even if Dean wasn't real, even if he was a demon or a monster with Dean's face, he would accept it, he wouldn't move. Dean offered his hand. So slowly he was barely moving, Sam laid his own on top of it, his eyes widening. He tackled Dean to the ground, bursting into tears, rocking them both back and forth in the dirt. His fingers clutched Dean's jacket so tightly there were clear indentations, and he buried his face in Dean's shoulder, sobbing so hard he was hyperventilating.

"Woah, easy, tiger," Dean said. But he was crying too, stroking Sam's hair, looking at Sam the way Cas had always wanted Dean to look at him. It was a familiar ache, buried beneath so much relief for Sam that Cas barely even felt it. "Aww, Sam. My baby brother. My Sammy- Look at you. You look like a fuckin' yeti, man, you're so hairy." Sam let out something that could have been a laugh or a particularly loud sob. They clung to each other like if they let go, one of them would disappear again. Dean's lips pressed to Sam's forehead, his nose, down to his lips. They kissed for a long moment, and Cas wondered if even Adam and Eve had ever fit together this well.

"I haven't breathed since you died," Sam managed to gasp out. Dean shushed him, holding him so tightly that Cas wondered if they were both in pain. 

"Heaven- it wasn't fucking heaven, man. Even with Bobby and mom and dad. Oh- and Charlie. I missed you. Like hell. Like missing a limb" 

"I thought I would die," Sam whispered. "Dean- but how are you-?"

"Cas." 

"Thank you," Sam whispered lowly. "Thank you, Cas- thank you." Dean held him tightly for a moment more, then tried to pull away. Sam grabbed him close, and Dean chuckled, a low real sound Cas hadn't heard him make since he'd been in heaven. He tugged them both up together, keeping contact with as much of Sam's body as he could.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's get you cleaned up. No offense, but you smell like a toilet." Sam made the desperate breathy almost-laugh sound. They stood. Cas watched them walk off together, wondering if he had done the right thing. Wondering if it would even mean anything, if both of them would even survive the Task. But for now, at least, watching them hold each other too close to even walk straight, even feeling the twinge of want mixed with hurt in his own chest, he knew he had been right. Maybe fifteen years ago, Sam would have survived fine without Dean. Maybe he'd have been able to eventually have a normal life. But now- now their souls were too entwined for either of them to be okay without the other. Cas sighed, the Task flashing before his eyes again. He would give them a week. Then it would be time.


	2. Always Remember

Dean somehow managed to get them into the Impala, practically needing to pry Sam's fingers off of his clothes to get them inside. Sam couldn't stop looking at him, couldn't stop touching him. Dean was having the same problem, his hands coming up to cup Sam's face. It was thin, way too fucking thin. So was Sam's whole body. Dean felt his ribs as he ran a hand across Sam's chest then down his back, pulling his brother down to lay his head across Dean's lap. Sam went without complaint. He was still crying, Dean realized. Not sobbing anymore, but his eyes were leaking, and his hands were desperate, grabbing at everywhere he could reach. Dean buried his hand in Sam's hair, driving off to find the closest motel. He murmured soothing words, not sure if they were for Sam or for him. 

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get you fixed up, okay? It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine." He pulled over at a convenience store. Sam clung to Dean tightly when he tried to get out of the car, and Dean sighed, tangling a hand in Sam's hair and pressing their foreheads together. Sam let out a sound like a kicked puppy, and Dean held him tighter. "Sammy. You look like a homeless Bigfoot, and you smell worse than that. You need water. And food. I promise you. I'll be right back. Five minutes." Sam clutched at his hands, though, closing his eyes, lips inches from Dean's.

"Please don't leave me," he murmured. Dean pulled back and looked him over, his heart breaking. 

"Yeah, okay. But if we get kicked out, it's on your shaggy-ass head. C'mon, Sasquatch, let's go." 

Sam followed obediently, his eyes hollow. Dean grabbed shampoo, a pack of razors, a few gatorades, and a huge bag of chips. The guy behind the counter eyed them suspiciously, but rang them up without issue. He pressed the gatorade into Sam's hands, forcing him to take tiny sips as they drove. He eyed the chips, but figured it wasn't worth trying to get Sammy to eat them. Not yet. Not until they stopped and Dean could hold him while he ate. Dean got them a hotel room, Sam clutching tightly to his hand the whole time, probably terrifying the poor guy behind the desk. Didn't matter. Sam was with him. Sam needed him, needed help. They could freak out the clerk. Dean managed to get them into the hotel room. He ran a bath, then gently helped take Sam's clothes off. 

Sam was so thin. So impossibly small and Dean felt his eyes welling up with tears just looking at him. He'd probably lost at least twenty pounds, and though his frame was still wiry with muscle, he looked younger and fragile. Sam's eyes watered as he tugged at Dean's clothes, his fingers shaking. Dean helped him out, stripping until he was as naked as his brother. Sam grabbed at him again, and Dean shivered as their naked skin pressed together, warm and perfect and terrifying. This was closer to heaven than his heaven had been, even with Sam as filthy and thin and messed up as he was. Dean closed his eyes, forgetting himself for just a moment in Sam's embrace. Then he tugged at Sam, pulling them both into the warm bath. He sat behind Sam, pulling his brother flush against him. Sam followed, letting out something like a whimper as more of his skin was submerged.

"That's it, Sammy. We'll get all this shit off you. Get you looking human again. That beard- the beard's gotta go, sweetheart. This is just-" Dean ran a hand through the tangly hair, shaking his head. Sam gave him a little huff, the thing that used to be his laugh. 

"I look hot with a beard," he said weakly. Dean grinned widely, so relieved to hear Sam say something almost normal that he could have died and gone to heaven all over again.

"You know I'd still sleep with ya even if you looked like Danny DeVito. But that beard ain't doin' you any favors. First thing once we get some sleep and food in you, I'm shaving it off. Even if I have to tie you down." Sam huffed again, leaning his head onto Dean's shoulder.

"Kinky. Tying down. That's usually my job."

"Yeah, well, you have no job right now but to get better, alright? All your jobs are my jobs." Sam closed his eyes as Dean ran the washcloth over his chest, down each of his arms, along his neck. He let out a long sigh, his skin breaking out into goosebumps, and Dean's legs clamped around him tightly. "Sammy, how long's it been since somebody touched you? Not even sex- like a fuckin' hug? Handshake?" Sam stayed silent. Dean cursed to himself. "Fucking _Christ_ , Sammy, if I knew- I woulda chased down Cas and forced him to bring me back months ago. I thought you were better off. I thought you'd get the apple-pie life- what you always wanted-"

"Dean," Sam said, sounding absolutely exhausted. " _You're_ what I've always wanted." 

Dean's chest felt warm. He held Sam for a long moment, burying his face in Sam's ridiculously long hair. Then he kept washing his brother, as gently as possible, washing all of the filth from god-knew how long without a shower. Sam's body grew pliant against his, a soft smile on his lips, eyes closed as Dean ran the washcloth all over his body. Dean scooped up handfuls of water, letting it run down Sam's face, through his hair. He gently ran his hands through Sam's ridiculous beard, cleaning the grime out of it, shampooing it up just in case it took a few days for Sam to let him shave it off. Sam was putty beneath his hands, apparently just happy to have Dean touching him. Dean spooned a few more handfuls of water onto Sam's hair, then leaned them both forward, massaging Sam's scalp as he rubbed shampoo through his long hair. Sam groaned, and Dean felt the sound go straight to his cock. He was depraved. His brother was here, desperately in need of help, and he was getting turned on washing Sam's hair. He shoved the feelings down, washing Sammy's hair out, feeling the wet locks grow silky and smooth again beneath his fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," he murmured, tears sliding down his face as he held his brother tightly to him. The water around them was brown. He didn't care. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm never leaving you again. I promise. Death herself will have to come pry me away. And even then, I'll start a riot in Hell. I promise you."

"You're here," Sam murmured sleepily, his head heavy on Dean's shoulder. His arms lay over Dean's, hands gripping Dean's wrists, holding Dean still. "You're here," he repeated, like he was trying to convince himself. 

"I'm here, baby, I'm here," Dean said, stroking Sam's skin gently just to feel Sam relax into him. The water was cold now, but he didn't want to move, didn't want to stop touching Sam's naked body for even a second. Then Sam shivered. "C'mon. Let's go to bed."

"Don't leave," Sam said, his voice heavy with sleep. Dean's heart broke for the fiftieth time that night. 

"Course not, Sammy, we just gotta get up and get into bed. Get you all dried off. And warm. I'm right here. I'm right here." He helped Sam up and got them both dried off. Sam practically dragged him to bed, clutching at Dean's body, tugging him down to be the little spoon. Dean pressed his back up against Sam's front, finding himself rewarded with a low sigh and Sam's body relaxing just a little behind him. He clutched Sam's arms, his heart aching, feeling complete for the first time in a year and a half.

Dean expected to stay up all night, watching over Sam, keeping him safe and fixing him somehow, but he must have fallen asleep in Sam's warm embrace at some point, because when Sam bolted up in bed, it woke him. 

"Dean!" Sam practically shouted, eyes still closed. He reached out for something in front of him Dean couldn't see, and Dean was reaching for him automatically before he was even conscious of it, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist. Sam's heartbeat felt like a hummingbird's wings. as he jerked in Dean's arms.

"'S'okay, Sam, I'm here. I'm here, it was just a dream." Sam's full weight crashed into him and pushed him back onto the bed, crushing the air from Dean's lungs in the best way he'd ever felt. Sam's lips roughly brushed against his, his beard scratching Dean's face. Dean didn't care. He kissed Sam back, clutched at him tightly as Sam's tongue forced its way into his mouth, Sam's hands suddenly everywhere. Sam's hard cock brushed against his, and Dean's whole body shuddered with need, his legs wrapping around Sam, trying to get him even closer. He gasped, pushing Sam back despite every inch of his skin begging for more. 

"Sammy- you're hurt. There's time for this later. You should rest and-" Sam's eyes were wild and watery, and he held Dean tightly.

"I want you. Dean- want to know you're really here. Want you so bad. Please- Can I-" Dean was nodding before he was conscious of it. 

"Lube?" he asked, breathless as Sam's huge hand cupped behind his neck, Sam's other stroking down his side, teasingly close to his cock. Sam paused.

"Think we still had some left- my bag-" He scooted off Dean, looking pained at the separation. And Dean was supposed to be the strong one right now, he was supposed to be the one who needed touch less, but he reached back toward Sam on instinct for a second before falling back onto the bed, watching Sam all the while. He wasn't sure what he was afraid of happening in the thirty seconds between Sam moving away from him and grabbing the lube. A monster? A heart attack? But nothing happened, and soon, Sam was back on top of him, kissing him hard, touching him, perfect. 

Dean gasped as Sam's finger pushed into him, the familiar sting and anticipation making him arch his back up toward Sam. Sam didn't waste any time adding another finger, scissoring Dean open. Dean hissed as a third finger slid into him. Too soon. Way less prep than they usually did, but somehow that was better. That was what they needed. The animal look in Sam's eyes sent sparks straight through his veins, and warmth pooled in his stomach as Sam roughly fingered him. Dean was harder than he'd ever been in his life.

"Okay?" Sam asked, voice more animal than man, ragged with just a hint of restraint. 

"Yeah- yeah, c'mon Sammy, need to feel you," Dean murmured, hips thrusting up into Sam's fingers, pushing them deeper, harder inside him. It hurt just enough to contrast with the pleasure as Sam's fingers curled up in an easy practiced motion, hitting the spot that made Dean go boneless, hips twitching up, gasp torn from his throat. "Please, Sam-" he gasped. "Fuck me. Please-" 

Sam's fingers pulled out all at once, and Dean winced, suddenly too empty. His skin was alight where Sam's met his, and he spread his legs wider, tugging at Sam's back, trying to pull him closer. He didn't have to wait long. Sam's cock pushed into him all at once, and he hissed at the sting of it, clinging to Sam, trying to breathe as Sam groaned, stilling inside of him and clutching their bodies closely together, letting Dean adjust to the feeling. Sam was huge. He felt bigger now, and Dean wondered if something had changed since he'd been gone. Then Sam started to move and he stopped thinking. 

Sam fucked him rough and hard, his lips locking first on Dean's, then traveling down his neck, sucking hard where his neck met his shoulder. Dean held on tightly, wrapping his legs around Sam's back, clinging to his skin and moaning as each thrust brushed against his prostate, his cock rubbing against Sam's stomach with his every thrust. It was fast and raw and animalistic and perfect, and Dean felt himself getting close in minutes. Sam's forehead pressed to his, Sam breathing raggedly, still clutching at Dean as he pounded into him. Dean's hands found Sam's face, pulling their lips together as they both fell apart. Sam stilled, groaning as his cock pulsed inside Dean, pushing Dean over the edge. Dean practically screamed as he came, his hips twitching up out of his control, trying to keep the feeling going as long as he possibly could, trying to keep Sam inside of him. 

He slowly came down, Sam's face still up against his, both of them panting. Sam rolled them onto their sides, still inside Dean, holding him tightly. Dean took in a few deep breaths, lost in the feeling of Sam, feeling better than he had in maybe years. 

"God, Sammy," he managed to murmur, burying his face in Sam's chest. "I love you."

"Love you, Dean," Sam whispered back, his voice still ragged. "You're here. Really here."

"Nowhere I'd rather be."

"You gave up heaven for me," Sam said, wondering. Dean groaned.

"No chick-flick moments." Sam huffed, and it could have been Dean's imagination, but it sounded just a little closer to Sam's normal laugh. He grinned broadly. 

"You're okay," Sam murmured to himself.

"Course I am. Gotta say, I prefer this version of getting nailed." Sam inhaled sharply, and Dean regretted the joke instantly as Sam gripped him so tightly it hurt. He yelped and Sam's grip grew looser. "Sorry. Too soon."

"I'm not living without you again," Sam said softly. Dean brushed his ridiculously long hair behind his ears, watching Sam's eyes close, a little of the tension in his face disappearing. "I mean it."

"You won't have to." Dean reluctantly extricated himself from Sam's arms. Sam tried to hold on, but Dean shot him a look. "You gotta eat something, Sammy, you're skin and bones. And drink more gatorade." He threw another bottle at Sam as he grabbed the bag of chips and slid back into bed, wrapping his arms around Sam. "Get eating." Sam sighed, and Dean could practically feel his body shaking as he rolled his eyes. 

"Really? Sun Chips?" Dean opened the bag, shoving it into Sam's hands. 

"Figured your healthy-ass wouldn't do any other kind. We'll get you real food tomorrow. Good shit. Burgers. But for now, yeah, really Sun Chips. Eat them."

"Fine," Sam muttered. Dean buried his face between Sam's shoulder blades, listening to Sam's heartbeat slow to a normal rhythm, the crunch of chips that meant his brother wasn't going to drop dead of starvation during the night. He stroked Sam's chest, smiling. "You're still so bossy."

"That's how this works. You're bossy in bed, I getta be bossy out of it. Bitch." 

"Jerk," Sam said. He almost, just for a moment, sounded like the real Sam, Sam before all of this. Dean clutched at him even tighter. "I mean, technically, we're still in bed-"

"Alright," Dean muttered, his eyes already sliding closed again as he held tightly to his brother. "Smartass. Let's head toward Cali tomorrow. Spend a few days toes in the sand, sunshine and shit. Before Cas calls us back to do-whatever the hell he needs us to do."

"Yeah," Sam said, and Dean heard the smile in his voice behind the sound of chips. "Yeah- anything you want, Dean. Burgers- Cali- anything." Sam sounded more like himself every second, and the tight hand Dean had felt gripping his heart for the past few hours loosened. Sam was a mess- fine. They'd both been fucked-up before, and he could pull Sam out of this, put him back together. That was all that mattered, that he wasn't too far gone. And of course he wasn't. 

"As long as 'anything' includes getting rid of that fucking carpet on your face-"

"Some people like the rugged look," Sam murmured sleepily. Dean heard the chip bag land on the side table, and he grumbled to himself about kids starving in Africa. Sam rolled over and tugged Dean to his chest. Dean shut up. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean muttered, half asleep.

"Had a dream you were dead still. And I had a _kid_ named Dean."

"With _who_?" Dean asked, jealousy slipping past the exhaustion. He felt Sam shrug.

"I don't know. Then I dreamed I was old. With terrible white hair." Dean grinned, eyes still closed.

"Aw, Sammy. You haven't changed. Your nightmares are still about bad hair."

"Fuck off, jerk. Then I was dying. And then you were there. On a bridge." 

"What a shitty dream," Dean said, yawning and scooting even closer to Sam, bodies plastered to each other. Sam's arms wrapped tightly around his back. "No dying or bridges," he muttered gruffly, hearing the slurred sleepiness in his own voice.

"The important thing was you were back there too. My ending- my ending's always gonna be with you," Sam said. Dean shivered, pushing his face into Sam's chest. 

"Well-yeah. Course it is," Dean said, warm and happy and whole. "But not for a long long time." 


	3. Weary Head

Waves crashed on the sand, and his toes were bare. His head was on a warm chest, and everything smelled like Sam. Dean didn't dare open his eyes for fear it would all shatter. This was more heavenly than the year and a half he'd spent in Heaven, by far, and he'd take five minutes here over an eternity without Sam. Sam's hand was warm in his hair, and the cool air smelled like salt and sunscreen. He ran his fingers down Sam's side just to feel him shiver.

"We should get you food," Dean said, still unwilling to even blink. Sam groaned. 

"Dean. You forced like four pounds of pasta in me at dinner. I'm _fine_." Dean cracked one eye open, then the other. The world didn't fade away. He glared at Sam's silhouette. 

"You ain't fine, Skeletor. We gotta fill you out again. One good breeze would blow you away. Plus, that shack place? Fuckin' fantastic apple pie, remember?"

"All week with this. I'm okay. I'll be okay. Stop force-feeding me, or my stomach's going to explode." 

Dean looked up at the stars, his chest so full it could burst. Sam was doing better. Not great; he still drank a little every day (or got sick) and he was still so thin, and he still got a deer-in-the-headlights look whenever Dean left him alone even long enough to pee, but after how Dean had found him? He'd happily take better. The sea air was good for him too, probably. They should come back, he thought, once they finished whatever it was Cas wanted them to do. Sam sighed. 

"So what do you think Cas wants?" he asked, echoing Dean's thoughts. Dean shrugged. 

"I don't know, Sammy. But whatever it is- _anything_ \- we're giving it to him. I can't believe he did this for us." Sam clutched Dean tighter. 

"Yeah, God- poor Cas," Sam said softly. Dean felt the familiar surge of guilt at the thought. 

"He's a big boy. He's fine," he muttered gruffly. "C'mon, Sammy. That pie is calling my name."

Cas came early the next morning when Sam and Dean were still wrapped around each other in bed, awake, but not even awake enough to speak yet.

"Hello, Dean," he said, scaring Dean half out of his skin. Dean scrambled backwards, hitting the headboard, as Sam sat bolt-upright, cursing. 

" _Jesus_ , Cas," he said once his heart had slowed. "I thought you stopped doin' that _years_ ago."

"I'm sorry," Cas said, studiously avoiding looking at them. Dean rolled off the bed and fumbled for a shirt to throw over his boxers. "This is important. I tried to come last night, but-" Dean colored, thinking back to what he and Sam had been doing the night before. 

"Sorry," Sam said, looking at Cas with so much pity that Dean felt sick. Pity was the last thing Cas would want. Still, the angel shot a small smile at Sam. 

"It's time. I need Dean to come with me."

"Not without me," Sam said quickly, casting a panicked look toward Dean. Cas studied him gravely.

"Of course. I'll give you a moment to get dressed."

"Cas, what's going on? Where're we going?" Dean asked, but the room was empty again, leaving just he and Sam. Sam shrugged at him. 

"Like you said, anything, right?" Dean nodded. Trusting Cas was easy. He pulled his clothes on, tugging Sam in for a long kiss before praying to the angel. Cas was back in seconds, his expression unreadable.

"So- where we goin'?" Dean asked expectantly. 

"Taos, New Mexico. And we may need help."

"Taos? The fuck's in Taos, Cas?" Cas leaned against the dresser. 

"When Jack became God, when he pulled me and Gabriel and some of the others out of the Empty, the price was Lucifer. With Amara in harmony with him, the thought is balance, with everything they do. So he brought Lucifer back too. And not just Lucifer, a more powerful Lucifer. Dangerous. Jack has kept in under control for now, but he's stepping back. So we have to create a new cage. Or worry about him wrecking the world."

"But- Taos- What the hell's fucking Taos got to do with it?" Dean asked. 

"I think he just likes saying Taos," Sam said out of the corner of his mouth. Dean smacked his arm, and Sam gave him a grin so real it warmed his heart. Cas gave them an almost-smile. 

"It's good to see you feeling better, Sam," he said. 

"Cas- we can't thank you enough for what you did," Sam started, his eyes welling up. Dean smacked his arm again, harder this time. 

"No chick-flick moments, Sammy, quit acting like a girl." He turned to Cas. "But- yeah. As always, the angel comes through with the big save. Let's fuckin' hit Taos. What do you need?"

"The blood of a man- well, a _person_ \- who's been to Purgatory, Heaven, and Hell." Dean shrugged.

"Then I'm your guy. Let's do it."

"We'll have to get close- very close- to Lucifer to do it. And it's dangerous. I'm not sure how much blood the seal will take."

"Cas- there has to be someone else," Sam said, and Dean saw the feral, wild look that had been in Sam's eyes the first few days he'd been back. "Please. There's gotta be another way."

"Sammy, I'm gonna be fine," Dean said, reaching out and grabbing Sam's hand. Sam looked at him, clearly terrified, and Dean squeezed his hand tightly. "You'll be right there beside me. If anything goes wrong, if it's too much, you can stop it. Right, Cas?" Castiel nodded. 

"Yes. That's why you should be there. For Dean. And- there's something else it needs." Dean felt his heart sink at Cas's face. He knew that look. A face that was debating whether or not to say something, a face he knew he and Sam wore whenever they had to break bad news to someone. 

"What is it, Cas?" he barked. Cas glanced at him, his mouth setting into a determined line. 

"The grace of an angel. All of it." Dean balked. 

"No."

"Dean-"

"Absolutely not, Cas- Jesus, haven't you done enough for the world? Nobody else can do it? No other fucking angel is willing to give up-"

"I volunteered," Cas said firmly. Dean paused, eyes searching his face. 

" _What_?" he said. Sam's hand tightened around his. "Why? What the _hell_?"

"Dean," Cas said, giving him a tiny smile. "You- and Sam-" he glanced over at Sam like an afterthought. "But really, you- you changed me. I told you. And both of you- you showed me what it means to be human. You showed me it's the greatest thing anyone can be. How deeply you feel things. The lengths you'll go to to do what you think is right. How much more everything _means_ when you know it's temporary. And how hard you'll fight when everything seems over. All my existence, I've been obeying, serving- you taught me how to be something else. And Jack- he needed me to help set up the world. But now- I don't want to go back to being a pawn for the Heavens. I want to feel. I want to _choose_. I want to fight. I want to be here."

"But you'll die," Dean said. Cas gave him a wide smile. 

"Yes. I'll die. After I live. I'll get a soul. Not an eternity of sleep- I'll get Heaven or Hell. Whatever I deserve. Team Free Will, right? This is what I want." Dean glanced at Sam helplessly, but Sam didn't take his eyes off Cas. 

"The world doesn't deserve you," he said finally. Castiel flushed. 

"Jesus, Sammy, don't go giving him a big head." Dean studied Cas's face carefully. "What're the odds we both die in this thing?"

"Not bad. Actually, compared to some of the things we've faced before, really good chance that we don't. Lucifer can't do much from where he is, except influence being close enough for him to reach. And that's why we have him in the middle of the desert. We'll have Sam there, in case he's able to reach anyone. Or anything." Cas glanced at Sam, who looked pale and drawn. Dean clutched his arm protectively. "If one of us dies, all of us die." Sam nodded, his jaw locking into stubborn position. 

"Okay. Then let's do this."

The desert was cooler than Dean had expected it would be, and red dirt and scrappy little gray plants covered the landscape. It had been a while since he'd been to New Mexico. He'd forgotten how alien it seemed. Sam clutched at his hand tightly, apparently all the progress they'd made on touch-separation gone in the face of danger. He sighed, glad nobody aside from Cas and Sam was there to witness him squeezing Sam's hand back. 

"So- where's this seal?" Dean asked. Cas tilted his head and took off walking away from the Impala, up a hill. He exchanged a glance with Sam, then followed. 

The seal was a huge metal plate standing out of the earth at the top of the hill, intricate wardings and symbols engraved into it. Dean recognized some of them, and Sam probably recognized more, but there were others that seemed entirely foreign. Maybe Enochian or some other ancient language. It was big, the diameter at least the length of Baby if not bigger. The three of them stood around it, and Dean felt something ancient and old calling to his bones, something primally evil and cold. He clutched Sam's hand tighter, automatically positioning his body to push Sam a step behind him. 

"What do I do?" he asked, voice sounding gruff and foreign to his own ears. 

"I go first," Cas said. He tugged a vial from one of the trench coat's pockets, eyeing it carefully.

"Cas- Are you sure you really want to do this?" Dean asked. Cas glanced up, a calm, even smile on his face. 

"No," he said, his smile widening, reaching his eyes. "Isn't that the best part about choices?" He uncorked the vial and threw the contents down his throat. Before Dean could blink, run forward, try to stop him, Cas's angel blade was pressed up against his neck. "Dean, I don't know how much of your blood we need. And I don't know how long it'll take for me to change. Once the grace is in the seal, add your blood. Start small." Dean stared frozen, his grip on Sam probably deadly tight. "Dean! Got it?"

"Got it," he said. He watched as the blade cut into the angel's neck. Cas didn't flinch or make a sound. He just pressed the blade deeper beneath his skin, seeming to feel for something. He tugged the blade out, collapsing to his knees, silver fluid flowing from the wound. 

"Cas!" Dean yelped, and Sam had to hold him back until his rational sense took over again. Castiel's grace flowed directly into the seal, hovering over the edge of the dirt and filling up the metal. "Fuck- Sam- is he okay?"

"He said he'd be okay," Sam murmured. He moved forward, tugging Dean with him until they reached the fallen angel. Sam grabbed the blade from his hand as Dean looked down in consternation at Cas's unconscious form. "Dean- think it's time." Dean nodded. 

"Save my ass if I need you to?" Sam nodded fervently. A hint of a smile brushed across his lips. 

"What would I do without your ass." 

"Attaboy," Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder. He took the blade from Sam, exhaling slowly as he dragged it across his palm, holding his hand over the hole. Sharp pain slid through his skin for a moment, and he leaned into it, smiling savagely. Blood slowly dripped down from his hand, splattering on the dark metal seal and disappearing into it alongside Castiel's grace. The grace was flowing more slowly now, merely a trickle of silver. His blood left slowly too, drop after small drop touching the metal. He caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and cursed. 

"Sam-" he said, tilting his head toward the motion. Sam eyed him wildly, finally letting go of his hand. 

"Shit- what is that?" he asked. Dean hazarded another look at the thing, shaking his head. 

"Not sure. Nothin' good." It looked human, but it was moving too far too quickly to be. "Hold it off me for a few minutes?"

"On it," Sam said, fumbling through the huge bag of weapons at his side and tugging out the sawed-off shotgun. He cocked it, aiming it at the creature. The thing hissed and stopped in its tracks, looking half-animal now. Dean swore and dragged the angel blade across his other palm, holding both hands out as they dripped blood into the shallow pit. It was too slow. Just tiny drips and the thing was pacing on the other side of the seal, less than thirty feet away. It hissed, starting forward again. Sam emptied another salt-filled round into its chest and it yelped in pain, leaping back and clawing at the air. 

"Salt circle mighta been a good idea," Dean muttered as Sam reloaded, aiming the gun at the creature. 

"Yeah- seems like we never think these things through," Sam quipped, eyes focused on the creature. Dean caught movement beside it, cursing in time with Sam as a second creature appeared over the far edge of the hill.

"It's not fuckin' fast enough," he murmured. Sam fired at the second beast, and it shrieked, falling into place beside the first. They paced alongside each other, staying a good thirty feet back. Occasionally one of them hissed. A third beast, then in quick succession, a fourth appeared. Sam shot each of them, but with four of them there, the creatures seemed emboldened, each of them pacing one after the others, creeping forward inch by inch. Sam shot at one of them, but it didn't deter the others from marching slowly forward. Dean sighed. "Know how to tie a tourniquet, Sammy?"

"Dean- please be careful," Sam murmured, firing another two shots, popping the shells out, and reloading. 

"Promised you I wouldn't leave you again," Dean said. "Mean it." A fifth creature's head appeared, the other four pacing into a frenzy, looking more coyote than human now. It wouldn't be long before they rushed. "Trust me?" Sam's eyes whipped between Dean and the monsters. He looked as wild as they did. 

"Yes. Always." 

"Awesome," Dean managed. He took a breath in, then exhaled as he drove the blade deep into the groove of his arm, breathing out evenly as he pulled it through his skin all the way down to the wrist. The pain set in when he ran out of breath, and he watched, fascinated, as dark red blood ran from his veins and pooled into the seal. Sam kept shooting, reloading, shooting reloading in easy rhythm. Dean sunk to his knees, his head going fuzzy as he watched the blood. Would it be enough? All of a sudden, the seal flared with bright white light, so blinding he couldn't even see the creatures on the other side of it. He squinted, hair whipped up by an unseen wind as the metal lifted into the air, light above and below it. Then all of a sudden, it plummeted into the earth and the light went dark. Dean blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. He was vaguely aware of Sam crouching beside him, tying a shirt above his elbow with something sturdy between the fabric and his skin. 

"Monsters?" he managed to gasp out. Sam's face was pale above him, a hand grabbing Dean's jaw. 

"Gone." 

"Cas?"

"Don't know. Gotta get you both to the car- shit, Dean- you've lost so much blood."

"Not gonna die," Dean said, black spots clouding the front of his vision. Sam scooped him up into his arms, running toward the Impala. "Haven't lost enough for that."

"No, thank god," Sam murmured, getting him into the seat. He ran back toward the angel on the ground, and Dean watched, more fascinated than hurt or afraid as the dark swimming at the edges of his vision spread. 

"Good thing you remember tourniquets, right?" he managed as Sam lay Cas quickly across the back seats. 

"Yeah- you with me, Dean?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, his eyes sliding closed. His arm felt cold, and the dizziness was rushing in harder than ever as the car started, accelerating way too fast for Dean's brain to keep up with. Nausea roiled through him, but he swallowed it down, trying to hang on to the sound of Sam's voice. 

"Mmmhmm, always, Sammy," he said. His voice sounded slurred, even to him. His head was feeling warm now, and he knew he was close to passing out. Thank god, not close to dying. He knew all too well what _that_ felt like. Just pleasantly fuzzy from the lack of blood. "Sammy, love you- y'know that? Yermy- love-a-my-life," he said, frowning when the words came out garbled. Sam's hand closed around his leg, and the car seemed to speed up. 

"Stay awake, okay? Stay with me?" Sam murmured. Dean nodded, leaning back into the seat. 

"Mmmhmm, awake," he said. The world faded, growing muted, far away. When it faded back in, there were worried doctors and loud nurses all around him, rolling him into a room. "Sammy?" he managed to murmur. Then everything went dark.


	4. Carry On

He woke up in a hospital bed to the sound of someone snoring. His eyes flew open to see Sam beside him. He smiled softly, his uninjured arm reaching out to grab Sam's hand, which lay on the bed beside him. He hissed in pain as the shallow cut on his palm stung, but kept hold of Sam's hand. Sam snorted awake, glancing around frantically for a second before focusing in on Dean. 

"Hey. You're awake," he murmured, straightening. Dean huffed in agreement. 

"Hey. If you were a dwarf they'd have to call you Snorey," he murmured sleepily. He could practically hear it when Sam rolled his eyes.

"Good one."

"How long was I out?"

"Few hours. Think they kept you out during the blood transfusion. How do you feel?" Dean evaluated, strangely calm despite the fact that he couldn't feel his left arm.

"Fine. Sammy- if they had to amputate, you'd tell me, right? You wouldn't make me look over at my bleeding stump-"

"You can look," Sam said, squeezing Dean's hand. Dean bit back a hiss of pain. "Your arm's there. I got you here quick. As quick as I could. I guess you may have some nerve damage, but they saved your arm and sewed you up." Dean sighed with relief, glancing over at his arm. It was bandaged up thick enough that he couldn't see anything, and he relaxed. At least it was there. 

"Saved me again, sweetheart. Thanks." He tried to pull himself up. Sam pushed him back down with a palm to his chest, and Dean let him, smiling a little at the touch. "Where's Cas? He okay?"

"Um- yeah, he's on the second floor. Sleeping a lot, I guess, but he's fine. Just- you know, human. I barely kept you out of psych. They think you tried to kill yourself."

"Awesome," Dean muttered. He softened as he looked over Sam's exhausted face, the dark circles that had lightened a little over the past week back in full force. "You know, one-a these days, I swear, I'm gonna give you a real vacation. Like not panicking for a full month. I promise." Sam smiled softly at him. 

"Think your heart could handle that much nonexcitement?"

"You kidding? I'm thinkin' you and me head down to Mexico. Fuck it, maybe we bring Cas. Separate room, obviously. All three of us- we deserve it. He really okay? You talked to him?"

"I saw him," Sam said. "Just left you for a second. I didn't want to leave you, but I wanted to make sure he was- you know- But he was asleep. I've had his nurses let me know how he's doing. They think he's okay. Just- Sleeps a lot." Sam looked uncomfortable for a second, sighing before continuing. "I guess he asked for you." Dean squinted his eyes shut, shoving the guilt back. "It's not your fault, Dean, just-"

"Just my best friend caught feelings for me and I'm never gonna be able to return them because my baby brother is my soul mate." Sam smiled a little.

"I'm your soul mate?"

"Course you are, bitch," Dean mumbled, feeling his cheeks color. Sam's hand gently pulled away from his, moving up his arm and down his chest. 

"Kind of a chick-flick moment, don't ya think?" Sam asked casually, pressing his lips against Dean's before Dean could argue. Dean felt his lips part easily for Sam, letting Sam's tongue press into his mouth, making his whole body feel warm and pliant. By the time Sam pulled back, he forgot what he was annoyed about. Then he remembered Cas and groaned. 

"What am I supposed to do? It's Cas. I love him- course I love him- just not- not like that." Sam shrugged, looking helpless and as guilty as Dean felt. 

"You did all you can do. He knows we love him. I think- I don't know, Dean. Love can change forms. He knew he couldn't have you. Once he's human, maybe he'll be able to move on. And love you like-" Sam paused, frowning. "Like a-"

"I swear to God, if you say like a brother-" They grinned at each other, and Sam made that almost-laugh sound he'd been making since Dean had come back to life. 

"I was gonna say like a brother," Sam admitted, his grin widening. Dean rolled his eyes, trying to channel Sam's bitchface. 

"Very helpful. You can go eat a bag of dicks, Sammy."

"Interesting thing to hear from your soulmate-"

"I'll throw you out that window right now. Don't think I won't." His voice didn't sound all that threatening, though, and his right hand clasped around Sammy's on his chest. He ignored the slight sting of pain where his cut pushed into Sam's hand.

Someone knocked at the open door. Dean didn't let go of Sam's hand he turned his head and saw Cas. 

"Cas! Hey. How you feeling?" Cas smiled at both of them, and there was a light in his eyes Dean didn't remember ever seeing before.

"I feel terrible," Cas said, still beaming. "I feel like I'm going to fall asleep standing up, and like I require food, and like I got hit in the head with a sledgehammer." Dean frowned, raising an eyebrow. "I feel _human_. They're letting me out. I wanted to come see you. To say goodbye." Dean shook his head, unable to glance away.

"No- fuck that, Cas. No goodbyes. You're _family_. I told you that. You don't get to say goodbye." Cas shook his head, his smile unchanging.

"I don't mean forever. Or even for a long time. Just for a few months. But I think I need to explore this on my own for a little while. Learn what it means. How to deal with it. How to hunt as a human- because I want to hunt." He looked at Dean like he was waiting for permission. Dean sighed. 

"You better call us. Twice a week. Let us know you're okay. And where you are." Cas nodded at him. "And if you need a place to stay, you go to the Bunker. Don't wait for permission or anything like that. It's your home. Got it?" Cas glanced at Sam who nodded firmly. 

"Yes. I promise. You two- you take care of each other. And if there's anything you need-"

"Straight to you," Sam said. He walked forward and pulled Cas into a tight hug. Cas's arms wrapped around him after only a second of hesitation. "Don't stay away too long." 

"Thank you, Sam," Cas said. He was the first to pull away. He gave Dean a questioning glance. Dean sighed and opened his good arm. 

"Fuckin' Garth must be rubbing off on me," he muttered as the angel hugged him tightly for a second before pulling back like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. "Take care of yourself, buddy, alright? Sam, you got any cash?" Sam handed Cas a fake credit card and a wad of cash, instructing him on how to use all of it. Cas shoved it into his trenchcoat, and Dean figured it was probably lost to the fabric forever. The angel glanced between them one more time, and Dean studied his face for hurt. He didn't see any. That didn't mean it wasn't there, but at least it wasn't obvious.. 

"Thank you. Both of you. I'll call soon." 

"Any time," Sam said. Cas nodded. 

"Goodbye, Sam. Goodbye, Dean." He was gone as quickly as if he'd flown away. Dean sighed, leaning back into the pillow. 

"Think he'll be okay?" he asked softly. Sam's hand found his again, and he bit back a wince as the bandages pressed into the cut.

"I have a feeling he'll be just fine."

They drove all the way down to Puerto Vallarta and got a monthly rate on a hotel with Charlie's magic credit card. Heaven truly hadn't been heaven for him, Dean realized, because this- there was nothing any sort of heaven without Sam could do to compare to this. Every morning he woke up with Sam's body wrapped around his, Sam's warm breath on his neck or his cheek or his chest, his skin touching so much of Sam's that it seemed to sing. It didn't get old. Neither did Sam's huge hands deftly running over his body while he was still half-asleep, finding his most sensitive places and playing with him until he was begging for more. For the first time in Dean didn't remember how long, they had nowhere to be, nothing to worry about, not a single item on an agenda to take care of. They just had each other, waves, and sunshine, and everything was perfect. They ate fresh fruit by the ocean, and even as Dean moaned about needing something real, meat, preferably, he enjoyed the sweet tang of mango on his tongue. And they swam so much Dean swore they were turning part-fish, teasing each other and coming up with stupid contests just for the fun of it. 

And Sam stopped looking like a feral dog every time Dean stepped away from him. That was the best part. Watching Sam's eyes grow less wary, his usual bulk of muscle slowly returning as he filled up on seafood. Feeling him sleep through the night more often, bolting up so much less often from nightmares or weird dreams about heavenly bridges. Hearing his laugh grow deeper and longer and realer again. And the sex, well. As much as Dean loved quick and rough animalistic fucking, he also loved Sammy's carefully-calculated ways of bringing him to pieces. 

Sam dragged him in from the sea one day, tugging at Dean's hand all the way to their hotel. Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively once Sam closed the door behind them and shoved Dean up against the wall. 

"Fifth time in two days, Sammy. I dunno if I've even got the stamina to keep up with you." Sam kissed beneath his ear, sucking a mark onto his skin before dragging his teeth down to Dean's collar bone. Dean shivered, his good hand coming up to tangle in Sam's hair, tugging Sam's face back to his. Sam's lips came close, but stopped just short of meeting his. Dean groaned, trying to lean forward, but Sam held him back, carefully avoiding his injured arm. Sam pressed their foreheads together, hand at the nape of Dean's neck, his eyes dark, a little smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe it doesn't matter if you can keep up with me or not. Maybe I'll just tie you up and take what I want. Keep you naked and tied up and just fuck you all day, force you to keep coming, keep taking it till I'm done with you-"

"Jesus," Dean breathed, trying futilely to kiss Sam. Sam laughed, his hips pressing into Dean's, grinding against him through their wet shorts, easily pinning him against the wall. 

"And don't talk to me about, stamina, Dean. If it was up to you, we'd never leave the bed." Sam's face moved downward, biting hard at Dean's neck in a spot that made his knees weak. 

"Any reason we should?" Dean asked, his voice breathless, sort of wild and needy. Sam's dick rubbed up against his and he was diamond hard in seconds. "Point proven, Sam, I learned my lesson- c'mon, lemme touch you," he murmured, his arm full of stitches reaching out to grab Sam's waist and hold him closer. He still didn't have great control over his fingers, but Sam still treated the stitches so gingerly that he could usually get away with touching when Sam held him otherwise immobilized. This time, though, Sam chuckled low in his throat, grabbing Dean by his neck and pushing him hard into the cheap stucco. 

"Be good or I'm serious, I'll make you come till you cry," Sam said. Dean groaned, brushing his stubbornly curled fingers across Sam's side for just a moment before letting his arm fall to his side. "There you go. Good boy." He squeezed Dean's pulse points, grinding slowly up against him in a way that had Dean shivery in seconds. 

"You're such a fuckin' tease," he whispered, tilting his head back to give Sam more access. Finally, blessedly, Sam's lips connected with his, warm and familiar and harsh, forcing Dean's lips open, moving his tongue into Dean's open mouth. Dean groaned, hips moving against Sam's, heat in his stomach growing unbearable. "Want you- please, Sam, want you," Dean gasped out, ragged and helpless. 

It was so easy for Sam to get him like this, so easy to slide past every single defense he had and break him down to pure desire. This was Sam's, and only Sam's, and as much shit as he might give his brother for it, he loved that someone could do this to him. Loved that the someone was only Sam. Their bare chests pressed together, and Dean couldn't help himself from reaching out to grab Sam's ass, pulling him closer, loving the soft give of flesh beneath his fingers. He groaned when Sam pulled away, shaking his head. 

"Get those off," Sam said, gesturing to Dean's swim trunks. Dean kicked them off, grinning as Sam pushed him toward the bed. Sam fumbled with his own shorts, then pushed Dean back harder. He landed on his back, his legs spreading automatically as Sam climbed between them. "Good boy. Well- not all that good today, but-" Sam's fingers trailed teasingly down each of his thighs, gently pressing them open further. 

"I'll be good," Dean said softly, watching Sam's fingers stop just before reaching anything he actually wanted touched. Sam gave him a wicked grin. 

"No you won't. But that's more fun for both of us." Dean opened his mouth to argue, but groaned instead as Sam's tongue licked the inside of his thigh, tracing a line down to his cock without actually touching it. 

"Goddammit, Sammy, I hate it when you tease- c'mon, just fuckin' touch me already." Sam's grin widened, and Dean kicked at him lightly. 

"Do I have to tie you up or you gonna be good?" Dean considered for a second, then sighed, laying back onto the bed. 

"I'll be good," he repeated, scowling. Sam shook his head, licking across Dean's balls. Dean shivered, his hips lurching upward. He forced them back down, gritting his teeth with effort as Sam's tongue sunk lower and lower. He gasped as Sam licked around his hole, his hands holding Dean's thighs still and open. "Fuck- more-" Sam stopped, pulling back to shoot a bitch-face at him.

"You said you'd be good," Sam said, slapping his open thighs so hard that Dean almost yelped. He gritted his teeth and stayed as still as he possibly could. Sam rewarded him by licking back down to his hole, tongue flickering over the sensitive skin. Dean gasped at the feeling. It felt good, but god, it was only reminding him of what Sam wasn't doing right now. His cock twitched, and he thrust forward, trying to get more contact. Sam easily held him in place, chuckling softly. 

"Stay." 

"Yes sir," Dean murmured unhappily, forcing himself to stay put as Sam licked at his entrance. "Sam- please- fingers- something?" he asked, trying so hard to keep still that he was practically shaking with the effort of it. Sam hummed against him and he groaned at the feeling, Sam's fingertips dragging down his sides, down the plane of his stomach, easily avoiding coming into contact with his cock. Dean wanted to scream, wanted to grab Sam- or himself- but he forced himself to stay still. It was easier tied up, easier when he didn't have the option to just reach out and take what he wanted. This- this was harder, making himself stay, letting Sam do whatever he wanted- Dean tried to remind himself it was always worth it in the end. Sam would give him what he needed. 

Sam's finger grazed the underside of Dean's cock, and Dean gripped the sheets, unable to help himself from arching into the feeling of it. So light- barely there- but right now, with his every nerve on edge, it was enough to draw sound from him. He bit his lip, groaning as Sam's tongue kept teasing him, pressing at his hole without being able to fully get inside. 

"Please-" he managed to gasp out, holding tightly to the sheets to keep himself from grabbing on to Sam as Sam's finger kept stroking up and down Dean's hard dick, just barely enough pressure to make him want more. "Please- just-" 

Sam hummed to himself again, and Dean's eyes rolled back in his head, so turned on he could barely breathe. Sam's tongue flicked over his hole again, and this time, he couldn't hold himself back. He grabbed Sam's head and pushed it hard up against his skin, groaning as he gyrated into Sam's mouth. He'd pay for it in a second, he knew, but right now, he didn't care. Sam's finger slipped into him, and he nearly cried with the relief of it, hips thrusting toward Sam. Sam's lips closed around his cock and Dean moaned, burying his finger's in Sam's long hair as he lost himself to the sensations. Sam slid in another finger, and Dean didn't last long after that. He came hard into Sam's mouth, panting with pleasure as he slowly came back down. 

"Sorry, Sammy," he said, unable to keep the shit-eating grin off his face. Sam sighed, climbing on top of him. His arms wrapped around Dean's body, his own huge frame falling onto Dean. 

"Not yet, you're not," Sam whispered into his ear. Dean shivered at the warm breath on his skin. "I told you what would happen if you weren't good, didn't I?" Sam asked, and his fingers started moving within Dean once more, harder this time, pressing up against him. Dean gasped, hips jerking as he tried to move back. 

"Fuck- 'M sorry," he murmured. 

"Said I'd make you come till you cry, member?" Sam asked softly, his weight holding Dean in place as he kept rubbing his prostate, not letting up. Dean felt a third finger push into him, and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

"Too much-"

"You've got your safeword if you need it," Sam said, licking Dean's earlobe and sucking it into his mouth. Dean shivered, pleasured pain radiating through his body. Sam's fingers didn't let up. 

"Fuck-" Dean murmured, trying to squirm away from the stimulation. Sam held him easily. 

"C'mon, Dean, you know it'll feel good again in a second. You come for me again, I'll fuck you. Maybe if you're good for me this time, I won't tie you to the bed and keep playing with you when I'm done." Dean gasped, his cock filling again with Sam's words, pressing into Sam's hard stomach, too much contact, so sensitive that it hurt. "You like that idea? Maybe we'll do it, then. See how many times you can come in a night. What was your record before? Seven?" 

"Jesus Christ, Sammy, I was twenty-six," Dean managed to gasp out. The too-much-too-sensitive-too-soon feelings were fading, turning to pure pleasure again. "Can't-"

"Maybe not. That doesn't mean we can't try. I want to find out." Dean groaned, feeling himself falling back into the pleasure-addled state as his skin's sensitivity returned to normal. His good arm wrapped around Sammy, the bad one resting on the bed. He breathed Sam in, clinging to him tightly. 

"Christo," he said with a smirk, unable to help himself. Sam pulled back to grin at him. 

"Idiot," he said. 

His fingers kept moving, on and on, Sam's stomach purposely rubbing against his cock. Dean couldn't do anything but lean into the pleasure, letting Sam play his body like an instrument he knew by heart, and dammit, he did. Sam whispered filth into his ear as he kept going, and it wasn't long before Dean was coming again, practically screaming as he clamped down on Sam's fingers, riding them as much as his mobility let him. When he came down, he was shivering beneath Sam, and Sam looked at him, a hungry gleam in his eyes beyond his studied even look. Dean focused on breathing, on Sam's face, his body shaking with pleasure. 

"Two down," Sam said, stroking a finger down Dean's face. Dean looked at him in horror.

"Sammy- you are _not_ gonna try for seven," he started, his heart skipping a beat at Sam's small grin. 

"I dunno, Dean. I did say until you _cry_ , so. We'll see how many it takes." Sam gave him a grin, the sort of predatory grin he'd give someone they were interrogating or a particularly stubborn monster. Dean struggled beneath him suddenly, trying to throw him off, but Sam's weight held him easily. 

"Sometimes you're fucking scary, Sammy," he murmured weakly as Sam's fingers pulled out of him. He heaved a sigh of relief, his body allowed to come down for a second. Sam's grin didn't change. 

"You love it," he said. Dean shook his head stubbornly as he felt Sam line up against him, pushing slowly inside. 

"Too much- I can't-" Dean started, struggling on instinct. Sam leaned forward, keeping Dean still with his whole weight, his breath landing directly onto Dean's neck again. 

"Shh- yes you can. You can take it. I'm gonna fuck you- gonna feel you- and it's gonna feel so good in a second. You just gotta let me take you. I'm gonna fuck you till I come in your tight little hole, gonna have you till I'm done, and you're gonna let me," he murmured. Dean shuddered, his body still reeling. 

"Mm- okay," he whispered, wincing as Sam bottomed out, then slowly began to thrust, giving him time to get used to it. "Fuck-fuck- Sam- too much. Fuck-" Sam shushed him soothingly into his ear, groaning as he slowly fucked into Dean. 

"You feel so fucking good, Dean- god, so good for me- that's it. So fucking perfect- so tight-" Dean let out something dangerously close to a whisper as Sam grabbed his cock, tugging it in time with his thrusts. Dean felt like time was shifting around him as he struggled to pull away. It hurt- it was intense as hell, and beneath it all, there was a deep harsh pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. Soon, he was gasping with every thrust, surrendering his body to Sam. Sam wouldn't push him too far. Sam knew what he could take, he'd keep him there, right on that edge, force the harsh pleasure on him again and again-

"You're gonna come again for me. Want to feel you. Know you're close. C'mon, Dean- come for me-" Dean came for a third time, his mind blanking out as pleasured pain crashed over him hard. It seemed to last forever, he seemed to be floating above his body, warmth rushing through him. He gasped for air, clinging tightly to Sam. Finally, the insane sensations faded, leaving him only with the aching, painful sting of Sam thrusting into his sensitive body. 

"Can't- he gasped out, his voice ragged and hoarse. "Sam- I can't-" 

"Yes you can," Sam growled into his ear, holding him still once more. "Give in to me, Dean- you're so close. Give up- let me take care of you-" It was those last words that did it. Dean leaned into the pain, the discomfort, his body going limp beneath Sam. And it felt so good to give in, so good to just let Sam have him, mind, body, soul, that he did just that. He leaned into the feelings, letting his body go limp beneath Sam's body. He still clung to him, so lucky to have Sam touching him, with him, that he could barely breathe. He felt tears rise to his eyes, and he didn't have the strength to fight them back. 

"Yours- all yours, Sam- anything you want, it's yours. I'm yours," Dean murmured. He felt tears fall down his cheeks, tracking careful lines down his skin. Sam groaned above him, pressing his lips to Dean's, kissing him deeply with the same desperation he'd had when Dean had first returned. Dean yielded to him. There was nothing else he could do, nothing but give in, let Sam have him. Sam clutched at him tightly, his thrusts growing wild and erratic, and the pain was fading again, and there was no way Dean could come four times in a row without even a break- no way- and yet he was close again- close, just feeling Sam use him-

"Dean," Sam groaned, then his grip on Dean's skin grew painful and he stilled, and Dean found his last orgasm ripped from his body and he came along with Sam, and it felt so good that it hurt- it hurt- and it was only Sam would could ever draw this out of him, but he needed it so bad- He was floating, floating on another level, fuzzy and happy and above. Sam finally stilled, holding him tight enough to stop him from breaking apart. A gentle hand wiped the tears from Dean's face, and strong arms pulled him to his side, pulling Dean's face into his chest. 

"Okay, baby?" Sam asked softly, stroking a hand through Dean's hair, his other arm holding Dean against his body. Dean took in a few deep breaths, breathing in Sam, unable to keep the smile from his face. 

"Yeah, 'm good, Sammy," Dean murmured, clinging to his brother, letting his body go warm and relaxed. It still felt like his mind was floating on a separate plane, and his skin buzzed with electric sensation. "That was awesome." Sam held him tightly, pressing his lips to Dean's forehead. Dean closed his eyes and let him, knowing that he'd have to bring up the whole chick-flick moments thing if he didn't. 

"Yeah. It really was. You're amazing, Dean. Felt so good. I love watching you fall apart like that." Dean buried his face in Sam's chest, letting Sam's calm presence ground him back to the real world. His eyes were still wet, he realized, but Sam was strong and steady beneath him, Sam would bring him back down. Sam would take care of him. He sighed, clinging to his brother, not ready to say anything else yet. Sam seemed to understand, holding him close, arms gentle now. "I love you. More than anything." 

"I love you too, Sam," Dean managed to get out. He sighed, clinging to his brother, strangely vulnerable now that it was over. 

"I'm so lucky. Lucky I have you. Lucky you trust me. You're so beautiful, Dean. So perfect." Dean smiled against Sam's skin. 

"Bitch," he mumbled. Sam chuckled above him. 

"Jerk." Sam rolled onto his back, gently tugging Dean along with him. Dean lay with his head on Sam's chest, languid and calm and happy. His tears stopped after a few minutes, and his thoughts began to wander once more as Sam stroked his hair and his back. Sam still smelled like the ocean, and beneath that, just exactly like Sam. Dean laughed to himself.

"What?" Sam asked. 

"Oh- I was just thinkin'. Ever since I was a kid, I always thought I'd die young. Die hunting. You know? That's all anybody ever told me. It's all I thought I could ever be. So when I did, I guess I thought I'd feel proud. At peace, all that. But- it kinda felt empty. I guess I realized that's not who I am anymore. And it's not what I want. It's like what Cas was saying. We're Team Free Will. We shouldn't have to end up where we thought we would when we started all this. We've all grown so much since then. You don't want the whole apple pie lawyer life, Cas doesn't want to be a pawn in God's eternal perfect plan. And I don't want to go out like a martyr in the middle of a hunt. I guess- I guess I realized I'm not just some mindless killing machine programmed by Dad to gank monsters."

"Of course you're not. I've been telling you that your whole life," Sam said, clutching at him. Dean smiled. 

"I know. Took a while for it to get through my skull. You know I'm slow."

"And you're not fucking slow," Sam muttered, hitting Dean's head lightly. Dean sighed, burrowing into him. "How do you want to go out?" Sam's hand was heavy in Dean's hair. Dean shrugged, knowing the next words out of his mouth were going to be sappy, chick-flicky nonsense, yet unable to hold them back. 

"With you. In bed. Knowing we did some good here." Sam's arms tightened around him, and Dean huffed out a laugh. "Now, I'm not saying we stop hunting. I don't know if either of us could, and I sure as hell don't want to. But we're getting older. Slower. Maybe we slow down and leave the harder shit to the next generation."

"Really?" Sam asked, his voice unreadable. "What would we do?"

"I dunno. I figure even with the time you had left split, we got another good fifteen years in us. Maybe even a few more. We got all this experience, man. We know things that could really help hunters. Keep 'em from gettin' killed. Maybe we do something with it. Remember how much dad's journal helped us when we started hunting on our own? Maybe we write something. Use all the lore and experience and all that and get it out there. And hell, in the meantime, we could be the new Bobbys. Now that Garth's all tied up with his kids." Sam laughed, his chest shaking around Dean's ear. Dean scowled, pushing himself up to look at him. "What?"

"I never- _ever-_ thought I'd hear you say that. Dean- I want that. I want all of that with you. Hell, we hunt a few more years, then settle for good in the bunker and run a hunter base. Set up some sort of order- get people organized, come out ahead of the monsters." Dean smiled to himself. 

"You wanna go back to bein'," he paused, lifting himself up enough that Sam could see his eyebrows waggle. "The Chief?" Sam flipped him onto his back and kissed him. When he pulled away, it took Dean a second to remember how to breathe again. 

"Well, I'm already _your_ chief, so-"

" _Please_ \- Chief Bitch, is more like it," Dean grumbled, shoving at Sam's chest with his good arm. Sam stayed right where he was, giving Dean an infuriatingly smug smile. "Off, asshole, we got shit to do." 

"No we don't," Sam said, settling himself on top of Dean and burying his head in his neck. "We got four more days here and nothing to do. I could sit on you that long, easy." Dean grinned at him. 

"God, when did you become such a dick?"

"Think I was born this way. Dean?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I want to grow old with you and have awful, dollar-store wig white hair." Dean grinned up at him. 

"Sammy?"

"Uh huh?"

"You could grow a shitty white dollar-store beard wig, and I'd still want to wake up next to you every day." Sam raised an eyebrow. 

"Okay- there's chick-flick moments, then there's this line you just crossed. You're like- the chick-flickiest chick-flick to ever exist." Dean rolled his eyes, clinging to Sam's naked skin. He looked up at Sam, wondering if heaven was just this, just peace and afterglow and Sam's eyes, eyes he knew so well, staring down at him, teasing, marveling.

"Fuck it. Maybe chick flicks aren't that bad."


End file.
